An Unexpected Turn of Events
by Aku No Kokoro
Summary: Timmy's at it again, pursuing Ms. Trixie Tang as always. Although maybe a certain experience can make him see that someone "worse" was actually someone better? One-shot.


Timmy found himself in a party. A house party, you know, the kind with teenagers dancing and grinding to each whilst slowly getting more and more intoxicated while sipping bits of alcohol from red plastic cups. The kind of party that contained one or two or ten people passed out in someone's bedroom while one or two or five people took advantage of the situation. The kind of party that had dance music, and people crowding up the rooms in their cliques, and weird teenager games that usually involved sucking someone else's face, and if you were lucky, going beyond even that. Yes, Timmy had found himself in that kind of party, and within five minutes of stepping into the house of some kid who he didn't even talk to, he decided he hated it here. But, Timmy stuck around anyway, because he decided he would endure all of this for "love".

How had Timmy ended up here anyway? He was nowhere near popular enough to receive an invitation. Well the answer was Tootie. Throughout Middle School, Tootie, Timmy and the gang were still a good conductor of ridicule. The former especially due to the fact that it still bothered her, which fueled her oppressor's desire to do it more. The main reason for it was her appearance. To be short, she looked like a dork. To be long, her chest and bottom were flat as a board, she wore braces, huge black-rimmed glasses that covered half her face, and kept her black hair in twin pigtails. Her face then was still round, and retained a good deal of baby fat too. Her white button-up shirt was tucked into her pleated skirt, and neither had a wrinkle, nor crease and her knee length black socks wrapped around her skinny leg, and slipped into shiny, polished shoes. She was an easy target.

That was middle school though, and while she was insecure about her lack of breasts, her parents assured her that she was a late bloomer. Her parents were right, as at the very end of sophomore year, she had started to develop. And boy did she develop. Those changed did not go unnoticed, especially by the boys, yes, even the snotty popular ones. Her confidence grew just a bit, and she branched out. She smiled and talked to the right people, and somehow or another, one of the hotshots invited her to his place for a party. "It'll be great" He told her. Don't misunderstand, this was not a blooming romance. This is High School, and the kid was a horn dog. He paid no mind to her interests (Which had grown from Timmy action figures to comic book ones), but only minded his own interests. Those being the two massive puppies that seemed to ready to burst out of her shirt (Tucking in her button-up wasn't so dorky now, was it?).

Tootie, being naïve, went along with it anyway, and Tootie, being loyal, invited all her buds in the group. A.J, Timmy, and Chester, unanimously agreed that it was stupid, and the first two hadn't planned on showing up, but instead play video games all night. The third however decided that he would attend, the reason being that a certain Trixie Tang was sure to show up. So on a Friday night, he and Tootie walked through the door together of Mr. Hotshot's house, where club music was blaring out of every single speaker. Things were going fine, until he lost Tootie in the crowd. He walked around a bit, almost getting lost in the house himself screaming her name, but his voice was a mere whisper against the music and guests. So he sighed and decided to wander aimlessly as people bumped into him in the constricted space. Eventually he found an empty bit of couch to sit on, and just sat there with his arms folded, staring at the wall, trying to ignore all the stupid conversations around him. A couple started to make out next to him and fell on the couch, him included, but they showed no sign of stopping or apologizing. They didn't even seem to care he was there, so he got up and left.

Wandering again, he found a piece of unoccupied wall, and leaned his back on it, once again crossing his arms. For lack of anything better to do, he watched flaky people flirt and laugh at each other's jokes. He raised a hand to his throat and swallowed. It hurt from trying to find Tootie earlier. He needed and drink, but beer was the only thing here. Not seeing any other options, Timmy grabbed a can out of the cooler and snapped it open. He didn't feel too sure about this, this would be his first time drinking. "Well, here goes nothing" he thought, bracing himself for the taste. Though to his surprise, it wasn't that bad. Not that good either, he didn't see why his peers obsessed over it so much, but at least it parched his thirst.

While gulping down the liquid, Timmy couldn't help but feel out of place. In his pink tee and pink hat, he obviously didn't fit in. He hated the music, the company, and worst of all he had seen no sign of Trixie, the reason he came here in the first place (His friends all agreed it was a stupid reason anyway). As he finished the can, he walked around looking for the exit. That was, until he noticed a group of kids hanging out in one corner of the room. This group seemed different, something about them gave off an air of superiority (And had Timmy been a bit more analytical, he would have noticed that they were wearing designer clothing, and did not talk, but simply remain silent within each other's company to flaunt their exceeding social rank). And in the center of this very group, was the lifelong affection of Timmy's dreams.

He approached closer to them. Tang was nowhere near as well-endowed as Tootie, but she had her own wiles. Black, sleek, straight hair, long slender legs, a gap in her thighs, soft curves, and thin arms that just whispered the word "Dainty". But probably the most attractive feature of all was her cold demeanor, which the boy mistook for Hard-To-Get, when in actuality, it just mean he didn't have a chance. Timmy spoke, they ignored, and after a while one of them made the snarky remark of "Let's get out of here." And they did just that. Timmy watched them go, embarrassed and ashamed, and took a seat at where they once were, since they left the chairs open. He kicked himself for a little bit (Rereading to himself the same old list about why he should get over Trixie Gorgeous Bitchy Tang. He had gotten pretty far down the list before a blonde rushed up to him.

"Hey, did you, like, see where Trixie went?!" She shouted, obviously exasperated. It seemed being left behind was a common thing for her.

"No, I didn't." Timmy admitted, though he probably should have.

"Oh." The Blonde responded, deflated at hearing the answer she expected and feared. "Ugh, I only went out for some air. Why do they keep doing this to me?" she whined.

It didn't seem to be a question she wasn't supposed to say out loud.

So she went off for a while and came back with a cold can of beer in her manicured hands. Why she returned instead of searching, who knew (Well she did, to put it simply, she was tired of this happening. Timmy doesn't know though, he's a bit oblivious to things. Don't you think so?) She sat a little ways off from him, and started taking small sips, but other than that, no one said a word. They both sat there and silently brooded, with Veronica going back to get more booze when her can ran out. In light of their current moods, the music seemed even more annoying than before.

After her fifth run, the silence became unbearable and Timmy decided he would bite the bullet.

"Vernocia?"

"Mm?" She turned her head to him, which she held low. Her hair, which usually in a bright perky ponytail was actually let down for once, and she wore a soft white sweater that accentuated the perks of her body. Modest breasts, a flat stomach, and the skirt she wore showed that her legs were just a little pudgy, but good looking nonetheless. She had nice blue eyes too. She had a lot to be proud of. The girl was by no means ugly, but she had been shadowed out by Trixie on a number of occasions. All of them actually.

"You okay?" Smooth, Turner.

"Yeah" She responded. "It's just-" She stopped. What she wanted to say was that she was tired of being second fiddle, tired of being ignored, tired of either being inferior, or in general just tired of the fact that she doesn't she decided against it. You don't just tell someone your life story when you don't even talk to them. Especially if you like the boy. That was rude.

"It's nothing." She finished. "Thanks for asking, nerd." And then she moved closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Boy, that wouldn't be wouldn't be happening if she were sober! And Timmy just let her remain there, finding it odd, but too light-headed to really make a fuss about it. So he continued to brood completely unaware of the thoughts of the the girl next to him. Veronica's heartbeat sped up. She couldn't believe she had gotten within such close proximity of the kid. "Keep calm." She eased herself, and in her beer encouraged stupor, she gained the confidence for a fairly stupid idea.

"Hey loser." She cooed, placing one of his hands in between both of hers.  
"Want to do something fun?"

And for some reason, Timmy fairly stupidly didn't resist (Everything was kind of fuzzy and swirling anyway) and ended up being lead up the stairs. The music was notably less intense up here, Timmy wish he came up here sooner. Somewhere along the way, she started calling him his name instead of loser. He was led by the hand to an empty bed room, and almost thrown onto a mattress. He looked up in time to see Veronica, with a smile on her face, sauntering towards him. She sat on his lap, her skirt hitching up on a "bump" in his pants.

"You know…" She whispered into his ear (Her breath was on fire!), "I've always kind of liked you Turner."

Hold on, what?

She moved her lips over his, but didn't make contact. Instead, she let her breath run over his lips in temptation.  
"Actually, you might even say it's more like love." And then she giggled. The look she was giving him was killing him, though he did note that there was something in her eyes that made her look kind of nuts. Not wasting time, Veronica closed the very small gap between their mouths. Actually, it was more like she smashed her mouth against his, caressing his tongue and lips and all as her hands came down to massage his face. Her fingers gently caressed his cheek, they sent tingles to the roots in his hair.

All the while Turner couldn't even fathom what was going on. Like? Love?! Where did all of this come from? They didn't even talk and now she loves him?!

Veronica broke apart from him though.

"My love for yoush burns with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns, y'know?" She said as she started to grind her bottom half on his pelvis. Those words sounded familiar to Timmy, though he had no idea why. He was a bit distracted by a certain sensation on the south end. His eyes shut, and his fingers gripped the bed sheets of whoever the hell slept here. Not even seconds later did those same eyes snap open in cold realization.

"Wait! Wait! Wait! I don't have a condom!" He gasped out.

"Oh? Hmph." Veronica seemed disappointed, but did not cease the rhythmic moving of her hips.

"Fine then." She pouted, but bent down low again for another kiss. Her face stopped right next to his.

"We'll just do thish." And with that, her tongue toyed with Timmy's lips, coyly asking for permission. He obliged, finding himself enjoying the feeling from the last experiences. (Man, her tongue just felt so soft and hot!). She moaned into the kiss, and Timmy found himself making similar noises. This time was brief though, and once she was done, she laid her head down on his chest and closed her eyes. A light snoring soon followed, and he realized that she had passed out. He tried and failed to push her off of him, and after a while, simply decided to let the swirling images take over him and to just allow his vision to dimmer.

When he woke up the next morning, he barely had a headache, since he didn't drink that much. The same could not be said for his many peers who were moaning and groaning all around. The room he was in was empty though, save for the blonde laying on top of him. Yeesh, how much did she have to drink? Somewhere along the way, it seemed his arms had wrapped around her too. Sobered up though, he found that he could easily push her off this time (Okay, maybe not too easily). He got up, straightened out his shirt, and looked around for his hat. Finding it, and slipping it on, Timmy headed for the door, and almost closed it behind him before he heard the girl stir.

"Hey. Loser." Well, it seemed like she was back to her snarky self, but she stepped back into the bedroom anyway. The girl, meanwhile, sat up, and pulled a sharpie and napkin out of her shirt. She began to scribble something down. When she finished, she handed it to him. Looking at it, Timmy saw a phone number in neat girly flourishes that he could never hope to replicate.

She spoke again, though the harsh, superior tone, like her gaze, had been casted downward.

"I know I'm nowhere near as pretty as she is." She really believed it too.  
"But I can treat you better." And finally, she looked up at him. "So, like, call me. Okay?"

Timmy Turner smiled. "Yea. I will."


End file.
